


The Ticking Clock

by eaten_by_bears



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Humor, Present Tense, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 01:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/681073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eaten_by_bears/pseuds/eaten_by_bears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prowl has to race against time to organize a mission to save the galaxy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ticking Clock

“A Giga Annihilator-” Prowl gasps, optics wide with horror. The news is enough to break even his stoic composure. He can’t stand. Optimus pulls out a chair for him, and he takes it. After an astrosecond, he recovers himself. “I assume that this information has been researched with all due rigor, and we’re sure of it?”

Optimus nods. His optics are regretful. “I wish I could say we weren’t.”

“Very well then,” Prowl says. His face turns thoughtful, his battle computer already running through possible outcomes at light speed. “A sabotage mission to destroy the Heart of the Annihilator gives a fifty-five percent probability of-” if there is hesitation in his voice, it is slight. “-galactic preservation. If we can accomplish it within twenty-four Earth hours, before Megatron can activate it, that number rises to seventy-two percent.”

He stands again. Time is of the essence, and he needs to go quickly.

Optimus claps a hand on his shoulder. “You have my every confidence. Remember, this mission is top secret.”

Prowl nods, putting his hand on top of the Prime’s. “I know, Sir.” He leaves the office. Optimus has the sense not to wish him luck.

They need a spy. Someone the Decepticons won’t notice until after the critical point.

He goes to Jazz’s office, but there’s a line out the door. He moves Bumblebee aside, trying to make his way through to get in.

“Hey!” Bee says. “Wait your turn.”

“I apologize,” Prowl says, “But this is time critical. At the rate this line is moving, I won’t see Jazz for half a joor and then-”

Bumblebee is looking up at him, worried by his uncharacteristic agitation. “And then what?”

Prowl grimaces. There’s no time to wait, and no way to get out of it without jeopardizing the mission. They have so little time to begin with, taking into account the length of the journey, the oceanic currents that could push a spy off course, the probability of additional sentries and any unknowns he can’t account for. He leaves in disgust, heading for Mirage’s office as quickly as he can without attracting notice. An invisible bot has just as much of a chance on the Nemesis as Jazz, if he can just-

“What!?” The line outside Mirage’s office is even longer than the first one. The mechs turn their faces, surprised by his outburst. “I need to see Mirage!”

Huffer makes a sour face. “You’re not the only one. Now, get in line, and wait.”

“This is a vital-” he stops himself before he reveals too much. Soundwave has sensors everywhere, and their chances plummet if the Decepticons know that they’re aware of the Annihilator. He calms himself, running the numbers in his processor until they blur together. “All right,” he says. As little as he likes arguing with Huffer at the best of times, it would be unconscionable when time is at a premium. He walks quickly to the west corridor of the Ark, toward the open end of the ship where Hound works. Covered by holograms is just as good as invisible, and if he can brief him in time, they still have a chance.

He has to bite back a cry of dismay. The line outside Hound’s workroom is the longest one of all. He could be there all day! There’s no point in arguing with the waiting bots, though, so he bolts down the hall before he loses any more time, heedless of the confused stares that follow him.

He pushes away the pressure of despair. The emotion takes up precious mental resources that he needs to find the solution, the best option, there must be _something_ -

He doesn’t freeze when his battle computer gives him the answer. There’s no time for that. If this is his only option, then he must proceed to enact it immediately. He takes the stairs two at a time as he climbs toward the ship’s little used upper level. He’s never liked the double agent. He’s unstable. Unpredictable. He’s thrown Prowl’s calculations more than once, and it’s pure chance that no one died because of it yet. But he is an Autobot agent; one that can slip past the Decepticons unnoticed and hopefully destroy their weapon before it’s built.

Prowl steps off the cramped staircase and out into the upper corridor where Punch’s office is located. They have a chance now. The hallway is clear, and there is no Punch line.

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry for this.


End file.
